I went for a long walk in downtown Denver this morning at about 6:30 am.  I was so excited that sleeping in was not an option for me.  My dearly beloved husband, though excited as well, had no problem pulling the sheets back over his head.

After an hour of enjoying the mild breeze and morning splendor among towering buildings and carefully designed green oasis,' I stopped in at McDonald's to purchase a cup of coffee for my comatose husband.  I was ready to get moving!

As I walked in the door, still smiling from the refreshment of my morning walk, a man about my age looked up and said, "Can I buy you a cup of coffee?" 

I glanced from him to his open laptop and back before repying with a question of my own, "Why would you ask me that?  Do you think you know me?"

"No," he said. "But I want to."

Without losing my smile, I said.  "Didn't you see my wedding ring?"

"Yes," he grinned.  "But you don't have to tell everything."

"Why would I want to do something I wouldn't tell the man I love with all my heart?" I said.

"Well, I can always try," Another big grin.

"Let me ask you something," I said, still smiling.  "Do you know the God of the Bible?" (this is not my normal response to an invitation to adultry)

"Yes," he answered.  "Sure I do."

"Well what do you think He thinks about what you are doing?"

"i don't know..."

"I don't think you are living up to His expectation," I said.  "Think about it."

I walked away, aware that his eyes followed me to the counter.  I purchased my husband's coffee, extra sugar please, and turned to leave the same way I had come in.

My "friend" looked up, sill grinning, and I said (still smiling), "I hope you think about what I said."  His grin widened. 

"You will meet your Maker some day my friend," I said, "and it won't be that long."

For the first time the grin flickered and almost went out. I could see the gentleman (did you catch the irony?) wondering if I was going to kill him myself or send my enraged husband down to do it.

Still smiling, I backed through the door and waved at him with my husband's hot steaming cup of coffee. 

I returned to the hotel and entertained my waking husband iwth a chronicle of my morning's activities, concluding with, "I hope this doesn't make you worry about me walking downtown."

His only response, "I'm not worried about you, I just feel sorry for the poor guy."